


Here's what I'll do (I'll take care of you)

by Sevi007



Series: The Devil's own luck [8]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Eva is having none of it, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Hell hath no fury like Mama Eva, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Massage, Slice of Life, Sparda is a work-aholic, it leans towards M a bit because they can't get their hands of each other, it's all harmless fluff though promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22227241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevi007/pseuds/Sevi007
Summary: The veil between the human world and Hell is starting to thin, old seals cracking and barely holding up. Sparda is determined to be once again the shield of humanity and works tirelessly to find a solution - even at the cost of his own health, it seems.Eva is having absolutely none of that and intervenes. If he cannot take care of himself like he should, then she will.
Relationships: Eva/Sparda (Devil May Cry)
Series: The Devil's own luck [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1223174
Kudos: 37





	Here's what I'll do (I'll take care of you)

**Author's Note:**

> Aka the fic where I just want Sparda to get some much deserved TLC (tender loving care, I learned recently) because I'm firmly of the belief that this guy a) was a workaholic of the worst sort and b) would have done everything to save humanity even if it hurt himself (for proof - see the fact he sealed away part of his own power to seal away Hell).  
> And I wanted to write a massage fic, all of a sudden. There's that, too. *shrug* 
> 
> ATTENTION: This fic dips towards the M rating - you will see what I mean - but since nothing is really gonna happen, not graphically at least, I decided to leave it at T rating. If you disagree with that, do tell me. When enough people are of the mind that this deserves a higher rating, I can change it no problem.

On the fourth night of his return from his latest trip, Eva couldn’t take it anymore.

The past days, she had done everything in her power to stomp down the worry which had started to creep up on her every time she noted that she _still_ hadn’t seen Sparda really leave his work to eat, much less to sleep. She had rarely ever seen him outside of his study _at all_ , and if, then only because he had left the room to grab some resource he needed before he was right back at it.

It was not the distance between them that worried her. She did not have to miss him – he was _right there,_ always in reach for her, always ready to pause long enough to give her a tired smile, or pull her in for a quick kiss which he seemed to long for just as much as she did.

What had her bite her tongue so as not to say something, fear gripping her heart, was the dark circles starting to shimmer under his eyes, the way he seemed to sag just slightly instead of standing tall, and gaze becoming unfocused more and more often.

No matter how she tried to push it away at first, worry churned in her gut, niggled at her mind and left her feeling cold. His limitations were different, he had assured her as much often enough, endurance far beyond anything a human could even imagine.

 _Different, but not endless,_ she reminded herself, on that fourth night, standing in the hallway in the dark in front of the study, dim light from within signalling it was occupied again. _He’s not immune to exhaustion either._.

If he was not going to take care of himself, she would have to do it for him.

With that thought she straightened and slipped into the dimly lit room.

She found him exactly where she had expected him; sitting in front of the enormous desk he preferred to work at, bent low over an array of papers, notes and open books strewn over its surface. The singular desk lamp provided just enough light to illuminate the lines of his frown, the haphazard way some strands of hair fell all around his face – ran his hand through it again while thinking, she observed – and the straight, hard line of his shoulders.

Right as she approached, he let himself fall against the backrest hard enough to make the wood groan under his weight, one hand coming up to pinch the bride of his nose with a sigh.

The sight along squeezed her heart, unpleasant and harsh, and she paused briefly in her approach, wavering. She couldn’t help him in his work that much she knew. Unravelling seals between entire realms, more and more demons crossing the borders, possibly enemies of old rising again – all of that was far out of her league. She could barely grasp the sheer enormous concept of it, sometimes! If anything, she would be more nuisance than help in this fight, should it be picked up again where it had been left off two thousand years ago.

She knew all of that.

But still. 

Eva took in the proud man slumped in his chair, emitting annoyance and exhaustion in equal parts like a fire would emit heat.

 _Still._ _At least let me support him where I can._

Fairly sure he had sensed her ever since she approached down the hallway, Eva still took the time to clear her throat lightly, announcing herself a heartbeat before she was in reach of him. The moment her hands settled on his shoulders, stroking forwards and down until she was hugging him from behind, Sparda sighed deeply, some of the tension leaking from his frame as he tilted his head back against her shoulder. “Eva.” 

Pressing a greeting kiss against his temple she asked lowly, “Made some progress yet?”

“Not enough,” the sigh which followed tickled her ear where he had turned and nuzzled against her, the gentle sensation a harsh contrast to the disappointment in his voice. “Not nearly enough.”

She had suspected as much but hearing it out loud still sent a wave of cold surging through her. The papers and notes strewn haphazardly before her made little sense to her, even those in tongues she could read, yet together they spoke of how much he had tried. How much had failed.

“If I cannot find a way to reinforce the seals again…,” Sparda trailed off without naming the consequences. Even without him saying it, it stood in the room, made shadows loom higher and temperatures drop.

It was instinct which made Eva tighten her grip around him, breathing him in and hold on tight, as if it would change a single thing. He did much the same, hand coming up to pull her closer, breath hitching as he held her.

They stayed like that for what could have been seconds or hours both, before Eva drew a deep, fortifying breath, carefully untangling herself from the embrace. Lamenting about the future would not get them anywhere; and it wasn’t what she had come to do here, anyway. “You need to rest, dear.”

There was the softness of adoring fondness in his gaze as he looked at her, yet he shook his head still, as she had suspected he would. A vague gesture encompassed the entirety of the workload before him. “This needs to be done.”

“Yes it does. But you won’t be any good for _anything_ if you work yourself into the ground.” Moving around the chair swiftly, Eva slipped into his lap without any resistance whatsoever, effectively blocking his way towards the desk altogether. Of course he could have lifted her off with a single hand if he wanted to; she was only counting on the fact here that he wouldn’t simply dismiss her like that.

Sparda knew that just as well. He didn’t try to fight her, made room for her by leaning against the backrest again. Even the stubborn set of his jaw couldn’t quite cover just _how_ ready he really was to give in. Reaching out with both hands, Eva tried to smooth out the harsh lines of it, thumbs digging in slightly to coax him into loosening his jaw and stop him from grinding his teeth. “Let’s not think about tomorrow, not about what-ifs and responsibilities. Just for this one night, rest, Sparda. A night of sleep and tomorrow, your work will provide results for sure.”

For a second, he wavered. Maybe pride would not let him give in so easily, maybe it was his sense of duty. Then he sighed, seeming to sag even further into her. A weak smile tugged at his lips. “You’re right. Of course you are.”

Relief flooded her like a wave cresting, and Eva let out a shuddering breath. She hadn’t been sure how convincing she would be. Laughing with the lightness of it, she teased, “Oh, I know. I’m just glad you agree.”

“I know better than to argue with you. And besides…” his smile grew, still tired, still timid in comparison, but warm no less as he brushed a strand of hair out of her face, so tender it felt like a whisper, “… I missed having you sleep next to me.”

“Me, too. I barely slept without you there,” _and_ _worrying about you the whole time,_ she didn’t say, but was fairly sure he heard nonetheless. She pushed to her feet, taking hold of the hand still resting against her cheek with both of hers and holding on, so that he couldn’t possibly back out again of his promise. “Come on. Let’s make up for some of that lost time, at least.”

Sparda’s smile curled wider while he let her tug him to his feet – only to fall in a wince as he stood, carefully rolling his shoulders and neck with a hiss. Eva was there in an instant, hands fluttering over his shoulders, fussing, “Alright?”

“I’m starting to remember why desk work was never my favourite…”

It was said as a joke, dry and curt, but Eva couldn’t really laugh at it. “Sore?

“Mh,” another careful move, another wince. “There _is_ a difference between swinging a sword and a pen, and I’m more used to the former.”

Seeing him lean towards the stroke of her hands over whatever bit of skin she could reach, eyes fluttering closed briefly in clear pleasure, an idea started to form in Eva’s mind. She had wanted him to relax and rest, and she had wanted to help him in doing so. Maybe she actually _could,_ she thought, excitement bubbling up inside her.

Giddy with the possibilities, she rose to the tip of her toes, pressing a quick kiss to Sparda’s cheek. “I’ve got an idea.”

One eyebrow arched at her, some of his old humour flickering over his face. “Ah. Should I be worried?”

“Maybe,” she only thrilled as his smile deepened, laughing. “To the bedroom with you. Shoo, go on. I will join you in a second.”

The sly humour only became more prominent on his expression. He wanted to ask, she knew, but he let her have her fun; made a show of shooting her a suspicious look over his shoulder when he turned to follow her instructions but didn’t pressure it.

Making sure he was well on his way to the bedroom – and not about to go back to work as soon as she turned her back – Eva darted off down the hallway to the bathroom, her goal clear in her mind.

It did not take her long to locate the small bottles of massage oil she was looking for. It was not unusual for him to rub her shoulders whenever she got tense, and the half-empty state of one of them as well as the fact that they were stashed where they could be easily grabbed only emphasized that.

Sniffing at both of the oils quickly, she settled on the one which had little smell altogether, but would warm up when applied; while the other one, flowery and aromatic, was her personal favourite, it very likely would only serve to overwhelm Sparda’s sharp sense of smell. The last thing she wanted!

Cleaning up and putting back what she didn’t need, Eva clutched the oil she had chosen tightly to her chest, careful not to drop it in her rush to the bedroom.

Sparda had settled on the edge of the bed, chin resting on his fist and gaze distant, waiting. When Eva entered his gaze found hers immediately and he stood with a smile, hand reaching for her in a silent invitation.

She wanted to follow it; she _would_ follow it, just not in the way he probably expected. Keeping her distance was difficult, every instinct telling her to step into his embrace as fast as she could, but she withstood, making a twirling motion with her finger and directing, “Okay, shirt off, and then lay on the bed face down.”

He stopped, arm slowly lowering again when he realized she wouldn’t immediately join him, puzzlement furrowing his brow. “What for?”

Of course he would prod until he understood what was going on. It was alright. She might have very well been the only person he took any orders from, yet ordering him around was not what she intended in the slightest, here. She was taking care of him, not making him do things against his will. “I’m going to give you a massage so you will be sure to get a good night’s sleep. How does that sound to you?” 

Instead of clearing things up, the explanation only seemed to stump him further. Sparda blinked slowly, once, twice, eyebrows reaching his hairline. Something very akin to wariness flicked over his expression as he cleared his throat. “Eva, that is… very kind of you…”

“… but not necessary?” She knew she had taken the words right out of his mouth when he rubbed his chin, shrugging. She sighed, crossing her arms. “Sparda, how many times have you massaged my shoulders already when I spent too much time reading in the same position?”

Another slow blink. “Hm.”

“A few times,” she surmised. “Was it necessary every single time?”

“Of course. You were in pain.”

“And _you_ are not, right now?” She could actually pinpoint the exact moment when she had him; the second his eyes darted away from hers, ever so briefly, before snapping back. Yet he didn’t seem to waver on his opinion, not giving her any hint that he was going to give in.

_Oh for the lord of… stupid, noble, selfless man._ Her heart lurched, frustration and affection rushing through her both at once. Eva shook her head, her posture softening when she crossed the distance over to him, reaching so she could cradle his face in her hands. He leaned down just enough so she could, comfortably, so he was not as unswayable on this as he seemed.

“You,” she murmured, shaking her head fondly, “are such an utter dolt sometimes, you know that?”

Surprise flickered in his eyes, followed by amusement, and he laughed quietly, leaning further into her. “I’m hearing that for the first time right now.”

“My bad, I should have told you sooner,” laughing at him when he raised his eyebrows in consternation, she paused, before adding much more sternly, “Care to tell me why I can’t take care of the man I love?”

“You don’t have to…”

“I _want_ to! That’s the whole point!” Leaning in until they were forehead to forehead, she searched for his gaze, held it. Tried to make him see. “I _always_ want to take care of you, make sure you’re alright. Most of the time, I can’t do anything to make it easier for you… but this time, I can _help_ _you_. Even if it’s just a little bit.”

He hadn’t protested yet, hadn’t tried to persuade her to let it go. Surely, that was a good sign? Her thumb swiped over his cheek, her nose nudged his. Imploring, pleading. “Let me, Sparda. Please?”

Something in his calm expression cracked at the last word, and he sighed deeply, fondly. “… I simply cannot say No to you. Fine.”

It took all her willpower not to actually whoop in triumph when he stepped away from her, even if Eva immediately felt cold with the distance between them. She watched as he reached down and tugged the white shirt he was wearing up and over his head in one fluid motion, not even bothering to turn away from her.

Because that was something they could _do_ now - admire each other openly with looks and touches and words alike, instead of averting their gaze quickly in fear of getting caught, or keeping their distances so as not to touch. It had taken them long enough to get to this point, and it was still so new that it was simply exhilarating.

Or maybe it would always be just as amazing as the first time. Only time could tell.

And because she _could,_ now, Eva whistled lowly, jokingly, at the nicely toned upper body revealed to her gaze, laughing when Sparda rolled his eyes at her fondly even though he was smiling himself. She could have sworn he flexed his muscles just a bit more than necessary when he chucked the shirt over his shoulder and neatly onto the nearby chair without even turning around to look, the show-off.

Once he had flopped, face first, onto the bed and shuffled until his head was resting on his crossed arms, everything else stretched out leisurely, Eva crawled onto the bed herself and, without missing a beat, swung her leg over him so she sat astride his hips. She shifted a bit, testing, before she asked, “Comfortable?”

“Mh-m,” the answer was almost lost in the back of his hands.

“Tell me when I get too heavy up here.”

She could _feel_ him laugh, low and rumbling, and that was actually quite a nice feeling, she decided. Point one in favour of doing this again in the future. “Eva, I can hardly feel you. You’re light as a feather.”

“You sure know how to make a lady feel good about herself.” Popping open the bottle of oil in time with his amused huff, she poured a small amount of it onto her palms. The bottle was banished to the nightstand for now, just in arm’s reach, and she rubbed her hands together, feeling strangely giddy with the job she had in front of her. “Ready?”

“Do be gentle with me,” the lilt of his voice gave away Sparda’s smile even when she couldn’t see his face, and she blew out a breath to cover her own laugh. As if he would ever believe that she would hurt him. Or _could_ , for that matter.

And yet when she lay his hands on his shoulders, not even pressing yet, simply resting there, she felt a tension there far beyond hurting, knotted muscles. He was tensing up as if to prepare himself for something he couldn’t quite put his finger on yet, bracing himself.

It made her heart twist painfully, and she gently stroked over his shoulders, willing him to relax, to _trust_. “Shhhh, dear. It’s just me. Just me.”

A shuddered breath, and Sparda nodded, jerkily. Some of the tension leaked out of his frame, and Eva dared to breathe again. Now, she could really start her work.

And she did, fingers rubbing gently in, instead of simply stroking over the skin.

The amount of resistance she was met with made her splutter, smile dripping off her face immediately. “What the… Sparda, what did you _do?_ ”

“Pardon?”

“This can’t possibly be healthy! I thought you heal from everything!”

“I heal from wounds and illnesses. Things that need to be repaired and knitted back up. I have found sore muscles apparently don’t fall into that category,” Sparda tried to turn, making her yelp as she overbalanced, and immediately settled back down when she pushed against him in warning. Still, he tried to turn his head to see what she was doing, surprise clear in his voice. “Why? Is it that worrisome?”

“Look forward, you’re twisting your neck up – and worrisome is one way to say it. Some of these knots feel like they’ve been there for a few centuries!” His quiet, perplexed laughter shook her through and she smiled back out of reflex at the sound, even while frowning and digging in harder. Her thumbs alone couldn’t do anything against what could only be called cords of steel making up the entirety of his shoulders and upper back, so she resorted to bringing the balls of her hands into it, putting her weight into each push. “Really now, when was the last time someone gave you a massage?”

“I can’t-…” he interrupted himself briefly, breath hitching when she dug her thumb in in a circular motion against a hard muscle under his shoulder blade. He fairly melted beneath her once it started loosening. “…-can’t recall a single instance of that _ever_ happening.”

“ _No?_ ”

The shock lacing her voice was not even faked for the sake of humour. If that was true, then it was not only a grave oversight, but very nearly a _crime_ in her books, Eva decided. He absolutely _deserved_ to be pampered and taken care of in any capacity. And anyway, this was also fun _,_ or at least she thought so. Seeing him feel good because of something she had done for him – and so simple at that! – made pride and affection bubble in her chest.

Clucking her tongue, she redoubled her efforts, bending to press a kiss to a knob of his spine in between. Hoping it would convey a _We should have done this before_ as well as a soft _I love you._ The oil left on her lips was absolutely worth it in exchange for the purring sigh he emitted at the contact. “Well, now you’ve done it. I’m going to give you so many massages from now on, you’re going to get sick and tired of them.”

Some of the tension she had so diligently worked out returned, a deep breath raising her entire weight an inch into the air where she sat astride him. For a second she thought he would protest, readying herself already to counter it with something along the lines of _oh no mister, I **will** take care of you, just you watch me _– then he sagged again with a deep sigh that edged into defeated fondness. “I… wouldn’t grow tired of it, if you did.” 

She gaped at him, halting in her movements for a beat, before she laughed brightly, thrilled. “That good, yes?”

“Mmmmm,” turning his head slightly, Sparda smiled, gaze heavy and warm. “You missed your calling as a masseuse, it seems.”

“Flatterer.”

But even as she said it, teasing and fond both, Eva couldn’t help but preen a little. Hearing she was doing such a good job to the point of him agreeing to do it again… it certainly didn’t hurt her confidence. Still grinning, she reached to get more oil, determined to make this as good as she possibly could.

A pattern developed after that, her work almost feeling like a trance. Broad strokes all up and down his shoulders and back to find the muscles which had twisted and knotted up unpleasantly, then switching to hard pressure and rubs until they eased out. Once she was sure everything was sleek and relaxed again, she would stroke with her finger tips, nearly tickling, comforting the reddened skin and listening to him purr loudly in contentment, before then repeating the whole thing all over again.

Every now and then, Sparda’s breath caught, or he hissed when she first started on another knot. Every time it started relaxing again, he would groan, sometimes close to a growling moan, and stretch and shift beneath her. Mixed in with his constant purring, it became sort of like a soothing melody accompanying her work, further making her feel as if in a trancelike state.

It was… nice. More than nice, if Eva was honest, subtly shifting her weight now and then while internally laughing at herself.

Around the time she was very nearly finished, his entire shoulders and upper back done and her hands currently working along the small of his back, it occurred to Eva that Sparda was getting restless; hips shifting enough he almost had her loose her balance once or twice, arms moving about with little sense and tucking a pillow closer to himself so he could hide his face in it.

Restlessness was the exact opposite of what the massage was supposed to do, and it had her frowning. It was as if he was keeping himself constantly moving to distract himself. Was he _still_ being stubborn about sleeping instead of working?

Tapping her fingers rapidly against his back to garner his attention, she almost had to laugh when he twitched so wildly it almost threw her off.

“Eva?” Even his voice anything _but_ relaxed, straining and gravely instead.

“It’s alright if you fall asleep during this, you know,” she told him, amused. “That would actually be a huge compliment.”

He shifted, shoulders tensing briefly – she smacked him lightly for it, _no ruining my work_ – before he grumbled something that sounded very close to a petulant, “Don’t want to sleep.”

“Oh? What do you want to do, then?”

If he was going to say _work,_ she would absolutely pummel him with a pillow, Eva decided, getting back to digging her thumbs along his spine and pushing up slowly.

There was a strained quality to the silence that enveloped them then, seeming to tighten to the point of near-snapping the longer it went on. It actually made her feel a flicker of worry, had her pausing her ministrations. “Sparda?”

The sheets rustled beneath as he stretched, one long, sinuous movement, and turned his head to the side to the point where he could glance at her. The one eye she could make out from underneath tousled white was burning bright, a crackling electric blue, and his voice hoarse as he growled out, “I want to _ravish_ you.”

Oh.

 _Oh_ , well.

 _Well that would be a huge compliment, too,_ a little, very unhelpful part of her mind that hadn’t immediately stuttered to a halt informed her cheekily.

She just knew she had to be gaping at him when he released a sound somewhere between laugh and growl, drawing her attention back to him. “You have no idea what you do to me, have you?”

“It’s…” _just a massage_ , had been on her tongue, but she swallowed it. The moment it had crossed her mind, she had to admit that she _might_ actually understand it. Not only because the proceedings were slowly but surely starting to affect her as well, slow, sweet arousal pooling low in her belly like finest, heated honey with every hitching breath, every punched out groan and minute shift of his hips between her thighs. But also because he had never _experienced_ something like it before, if his words were to be taken at face-value, and the intimacy of it, the physicality mixed with unwavering affection and care, might have actually resulted in an outcome he simply hadn’t seen coming when agreeing to this.

Affection and understanding bloom in her chest at the thought, and she impulsively leaned down for another kiss to his back that had him breathe out deeply, slowly, his eye fluttering closed briefly.

It made him look almost pained, for a moment, but most of all it made him look _exhausted._ And that was what snapped Eva back out of her surprise and the arousal coiling low in her belly for good – all this talk aside, he was still _tired_. And even if he was temptation incarnate right now – _as always?_ a tiny voice supplied - she was not yet so lust-addled that she wouldn’t take care of him first, before letting any ravishing take place.

This was about making Sparda feel good and relax him until he could _rest_ , after all, not working him up and exerting him even more.

And she knew, suddenly and clear, that he knew it as well. His words were certainly no empty promise – _oh they weren’t -_ the want and intent there, yet he had made no move to let actions follow them as he usually would. It was enough to tell her he was aware of the fact that he was, indeed, too tired for whatever had just crossed his mind, no matter how much he wanted to. 

Suddenly the whole thing was almost hilarious to her, and she actually laughed; not unkindly, and not at him. Maybe a bit at the both of them.

_God, we’re like teenagers all over again, aren’t we?_

With a last tender stroke down the length of his back, feeling him sigh, she pushed herself up, scooting forward (forget about the oil staining her pants, who cared right then) until she could bend low and kiss him, a light thing he accepted and responded to readily. She stayed close even after pulling back, murmuring gently, “Let’s save that for tomorrow, hmmm? When you’re not so likely to fall asleep on me in the middle of it.”

“Mmmh,” his hand slipped free from under his chin, capturing her hand closest to him. He nuzzled into the palm of it, leaving a kiss there before releasing her again. Blue eyes like sheer banked fire blinked up at her, heavy-lidded and sleepy. “Such good arguments, my lady. Very well.” 

“Smart man,” she praised while she moved back again, laughing when he snorted loudly. “Now let me finish up here, okay?”

There was no answer, apart from him shifting his hips (she imagined it might be to take the pressure off, and flushed at the thought) and burying his face in the pillow again, anticipation radiating off of him in waves. It made her laughter ring out like bells in the room. Oh, how glad she was she had suggested this in the first place! She only wished she had done so sooner. Taking care of him was exhilarating.

The final movements of the massage she had in mind was actually something she had seen and picked up from a professional once and felt confident it would prove as a perfect culmination; slow, swiping strokes down the length of the back, left and right of the spine. Circles outwards, down the sides, then back up the middle of the back. The same straight path from before retraced, up all the way to the shoulders, shifting into little circling motions over the shoulders outwards. Minimal pressure behind it all the whole time. Rinse and repeat a few times.

By the forth pass, Sparda’s breath had evened out he could have very well been asleep, relaxed to the point of being utterly limp.

Considering her work done, Eva scooted carefully to the side until she kneeled beside him on the mattress, hands held up into the air so she wouldn’t accidentally smear the sheets and blankets.

“Be right back.” She kept her voice down to a whisper, just in case he had really fallen asleep.

A hum robbed her of that notion; still awake, though sounding as if he would drift off any second now. He didn’t even as much as twitch when she got up and left the room. It nearly made her skip in joy, congratulating herself on a job well done. 

A quick run to the bathroom later, any residual oil washed off from hands and face, Eva felt about ready to sleep, herself. Contentment and tiredness settled in her limbs, making her feel comfortably heavy and sleepy by the time she returned to the bedroom.

In the middle of a good stretch, she paused in the doorway, taking in the sight before her with a smile.

Sparda had rolled over onto his back while she was gone, laying there all sprawled and loose-limbed. His left arm was stretched to her side of the bed, just right for her to slip into his embrace, the right arm flopped over his eyes. Still his chest rose and fell so evenly, anyone could have thought him sleeping.

And yet he must have heard her return, for he raised his arm just enough to blink at her from under it. When she didn’t move immediately, he made a low sound in his throat, flapping his left hand against the mattress in a universal gesture of invitation. He looked close to pouting at not having her close, eyes imploring even through the tiredness.

The love which had bubbled up in her chest, almost choking her, over spilled, bright and golden, and Eva was across the room in two strides, readily crawling into his arms as fast as she could, all while laughing brightly. Immediately she was tugged closer, Sparda rolling over and all but wrapping himself around her entire form, face coming to rest in the crook of her neck with a satisfied kind of huff.

Eva wrapped her limbs around him as well, couldn’t get close enough while she grinned into his tousled hair, loving the tickle of it on her face. “We _will_ do that again. Relaxed looks way too good on you.”

She had expected an imitated agreement; he had seemed taken with it enough, earlier. Instead she was surprised by the feel of him taking a deep, nearly shuddering breath, arms tightening around her while he murmured into her skin, “I love you.”

Oh. _Oh_ that was not fair, not when she was already all soft and sappy with love for him. She would cry if this kept going and it would be all his fault. Hugging him ever tighter, she breathed him in, voice brimming with emotions. “I love you, too.”

A hum rumbled through her, and a kiss was pressed against her skin. His lips tickled against her as he murmured, “Sleep.”

“Yes, you should,” she agreed, running a hand through his hair affectionately.

Strangely enough, he laughed at that, low and warm and utterly content. Before she could ask what was so funny, he suddenly nipped at her pulse point, hard and just _right_ , making her jump and yelp in surprise as heat pierced through her. “I meant _you_ should sleep, Eva. After all…”

Suddenly he was hovering over her, having pushed himself up onto his elbow so seamlessly she hadn’t even noticed it. The heat in his gaze when he smirked down at her, leaning in until his hot breath hit her lips, had her tongue stick to the roof of her mouth, heartbeat picking up dramatically while she froze under him despite herself, half-perplexed, half-anticipatory.

“… you should be well rested when I make good on my promise to ravish you.”

Maybe _laughing_ was not the most appropriate response to that, no matter how fond and thrilled and slightly breathless it was; yet Eva couldn’t help it, despite – or maybe because of - the excited shiver running through her. Luckily, Sparda seemed to be of the same mind, chuckle warm and fond when he smiled in response.

Linking her arms behind his neck and one leg over his thigh, Eva pulled him in close so his weight blanketed her again, just like it should be. Nudging the tip of his nose with hers, she murmured, “Looking forward to it.”

He was still smiling when he followed her pull readily; they both were. It made the soft kiss they shared a bit awkward, enough to make them breath laughter into it, but neither seemed to mind too much, both quite happy with how things were.

And when Sparda’s breaths, tickling and warm against her neck, shifted into the deep, calm pattern of sleep not too long after, Eva wrapped herself all the more tightly around him, determined to let him have his peace for a few hours, to keep him safe and sound in any way she could.

The world could have its protector back tomorrow.

Right then, he was all hers.

**Author's Note:**

> * I didn't get into what Sparda is working on too much, since this is supposed to be fluffy and slice of life, rather than angsty and lengthy. Basically, it's my firm believe that Sparda kept tight watch over how much, uh, "traffic" from Hell to the human world there was, and that he did more than just seal "one" gate (Temen-Ni-Gru) - if he sealed only one gate, Mundus could have easily just slipped himself and his army through the next, instead of taking 2000 years to do it! No, I think Sparda sealed every gate he knew off, to the best of his abilities, and that new gates would appear later, or old once would break open again when the seal grew weaker over time or someone broke it open from the other side. Let's call it a headcanon for this series only, yes? =D 
> 
> * Since I emphasized before that Eva and the love for her and her love for him was, likely, UNIQUE to Sparda, that would mean he never really had someone take care of him quite as lovingly as she did - that thought alone basically pushed me to write this fic. You have a millenia old demon who sacrificed himself to protect humans getting taken care of by the woman he loves for a turn, instead of taking care of everyone else but himself - com' on, that's my jam! I needed to write that! XD


End file.
